We could not go for a walk that afternoon. There was such a freezing cold wind, and such heavy
rain, that we all stayed indoors. I was glad of it. I never liked long walks, especially in winter. I used to
hate coming home when it was almost dark, with ice-cold fingers and toes, feeling miserable because
Bessie, the nursemaid, was always scolding me. All the time I knew I was different from my cousins,
Eliza, John and Georgiana Reed.
They were taller and stronger than me, and they were loved.
These three usually spent their time crying and quarrelling, but today they were sitting quietly
around their mother in the sitting-room. I wanted to join the family circle, but Mrs. Reed, my aunt,
refused. Bessie had complained about me.
'No, I'm sorry, Jane. Until I hear from Bessie, or see for myself, that you are really trying to
behave better, you cannot be treated as a good, happy child, like my children.'
'What does Bessie say I have done?' I asked.
'Jane, it is not polite to question me in that way. If you cannot speak pleasantly, be quiet.'
I crept out of the sitting-room and into the small room next door, where I chose a book full of
pictures from the bookcase. I climbed on to the window-seat and drew the curtains, so that I was
completely hidden. I sat there for a while. Sometimes I looked out of the window at the grey
November afternoon, and saw the rain pouring down on the leafless garden. But most of the time I
studied the book and stared, fascinated, at the pictures. Lost in the world of imagination, I forgot my
sad, lonely existence for a while, and was happy. I was only afraid that my secret hiding-place might
be discovered.
Suddenly the door of the room opened. John Reed rushed in.
'Where are you, rat?' he shouted. He did not see me behind the curtain. 'Eliza! Georgy! Jane
isn't here! Tell Mamma she's run out into the rain – what a bad animal she is!'
'How lucky I drew the curtain,' I thought. He would never have found me, because he was not
very intelligent. But Eliza guessed at once where I was.
'She's in the window-seat, John,' she called
from the sitting-room. So I came out
immediately, as I did not want him to pull me
out.
'What do you want?' I asked him.
'Say, "What do you want, Master Reed",' he
answered, sitting in an armchair. 'I want you
to come here.'
John Reed was fourteen and I was only ten.
He was large and rather fat. He usually ate
too much at meals, which made him ill. He
should have been at boarding school, but his
mother, who loved him very much, had
brought him home for a month or two,
because she thought his health was delicate.
John did not love his mother or his sisters,
and he hated me. He bullied and punished
me, not two or three times a week, not once
or twice a day, but all the time. My whole
body trembled when he came near.
Sometimes he hit me, sometimes he just
threatened me, and I lived in terrible fear of
him. I had no idea how to stop him. The
servants did not want to offend their young master, and Mrs. Reed could see no fault in her dear boy.
So I obeyed John's order and approached his armchair, thinking how very ugly his face was.
Perhaps he understood what I was thinking, for he hit me hard on the face.
'That is for your rudeness to Mamma just now,' he said, 'and for your wickedness in hiding, and
for looking at me like that, you rat!'
I was so used to his bullying that I never thought of hitting him back.
'What were you doing behind that curtain?' he asked.
We could not go for a walk that afternoon. There was such a freezing cold wind, and such heavy
rain, that we all stayed indoors. I was glad of it. I never liked long walks, especially in winter. I used to
hate coming home when it was almost dark, with ice-cold fingers and toes, feeling miserable because
Bessie, the nursemaid, was always scolding me. All the time I knew I was different from my cousins,
Eliza, John and Georgiana Reed.
They were taller and stronger than me, and they were loved.
These three usually spent their time crying and quarrelling, but today they were sitting quietly
around their mother in the sitting-room. I wanted to join the family circle, but Mrs. Reed, my aunt,
refused. Bessie had complained about me.
'No, I'm sorry, Jane. Until I hear from Bessie, or see for myself, that you are really trying to
behave better, you cannot be treated as a good, happy child, like my children.'
'What does Bessie say I have done?' I asked.
'Jane, it is not polite to question me in that way. If you cannot speak pleasantly, be quiet.'
I crept out of the sitting-room and into the small room next door, where I chose a book full of
pictures from the bookcase. I climbed on to the window-seat and drew the curtains, so that I was
completely hidden. I sat there for a while. Sometimes I looked out of the window at the grey
November afternoon, and saw the rain pouring down on the leafless garden. But most of the time I
studied the book and stared, fascinated, at the pictures. Lost in the world of imagination, I forgot my
sad, lonely existence for a while, and was happy. I was only afraid that my secret hiding-place might
be discovered.
Suddenly the door of the room opened. John Reed rushed in.
'Where are you, rat?' he shouted. He did not see me behind the curtain. 'Eliza! Georgy! Jane
isn't here! Tell Mamma she's run out into the rain – what a bad animal she is!'
'How lucky I drew the curtain,' I thought. He would never have found me, because he was not
very intelligent. But Eliza guessed at once where I was.
'She's in the window-seat, John,' she called
from the sitting-room. So I came out
immediately, as I did not want him to pull me
out.
'What do you want?' I asked him.
'Say, "What do you want, Master Reed",' he
answered, sitting in an armchair. 'I want you
to come here.'
John Reed was fourteen and I was only ten.
He was large and rather fat. He usually ate
too much at meals, which made him ill. He
should have been at boarding school, but his
mother, who loved him very much, had
brought him home for a month or two,
because she thought his health was delicate.
John did not love his mother or his sisters,
and he hated me. He bullied and punished
me, not two or three times a week, not once
or twice a day, but all the time. My whole
body trembled when he came near.
Sometimes he hit me, sometimes he just
threatened me, and I lived in terrible fear of
him. I had no idea how to stop him. The
servants did not want to offend their young master, and Mrs. Reed could see no fault in her dear boy.
So I obeyed John's order and approached his armchair, thinking how very ugly his face was.
Perhaps he understood what I was thinking, for he hit me hard on the face.
'That is for your rudeness to Mamma just now,' he said, 'and for your wickedness in hiding, and
for looking at me like that, you rat!'
I was so used to his bullying that I never thought of hitting him back.
'What were you doing behind that curtain?' he asked.
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